Hamartia

Spin my faster, spin me harder. You are my downfall.

It finally happened. We were caught. Is it horrible that the only real thing I was thinking about while they were trying to explain how hurt they were or how disappointed they were or how I was an ungrateful bitch, was that they should have parented better, listened better, and known just how much he had given up on religion and its rules. I lied so much tonight...Blatantly and shamelessly lied, and I have yet to cry. The only thing I regret, is screwing his life up more than he needed it to be.

He told me he loved me more than anything...twice. Once directly afterwards, and once again after I got home. I know that he loves me and I know it's not just some fluff that means nothing. And while I may be just a child and incapable of realizing what love really is (because I totally got that all jammed down my throat: we shouldn't be having sex because we don't know the true value of it. My ass. I know what love is and I know damn well that every ounce of devotion and care we invest in each other isn't just so we can continue having sex), I know that I love him too and that it's going to be really hard ending this relationship when we eventually have to.

The most pathetic thing that happened: his parents don't know dates at all. Maybe they were never filled in on the fact that we stopped dating for a month and maybe they never really got that we're more creative than they think we are, but their dates never matched up with what I had and they constantly argued over who had the right date between the two of them. Apparently, while I was still in Europe and totally single, his dad decided that we've gotten too close and needed to end the relationship. Yeah...they just sucked with dates.

So, for most of the night, mild acceptance of being royally screwed and quiet contemplation over how I was beyond this tangle of broken expectation -- I had already moved myself to planning to destroy every single request they had asked of me. Of course I was going to see him outside of school and of course I was still going to go about the same as I always did.

All through it, I stayed quiet. I wanted to make points, to interject, and to ruin their ideal son over and over again. I wanted to tell them that neither of us had been our firsts, and that their perfect little mormon son stopped being mormon years ago. I wanted to tell them off and make them realize how horrible of parents they were...but he still had to deal with them after I left and he deserved to do it himself.

I think at one point or another, I started shaking and just couldn't stop. A whole ton of stress and panic coupled with the annoyance of calling everyone I could think of that would drive me home, and I couldn't stop moving and shaking. And I think the only point where I was close to tears was when she brought up when we first started getting really close, before we ever started dating. Wouldn't it be an adventure to go back to when that had happened, to be able to try every different possibility knowing what I know now? Wouldn't it be exciting to know that I didn't need to depend on other people and live for solely myself and not need to prove anything? Wouldn't it be exciting to see where we would be if I hadn't been a cold-hearted bitch in June? Thousands of thoughts bubbled and collided with everything else. Most of the thoughts melded into a huge "I'm sorry for screwing up so badly and for putting you through this hell with me" while others were formed into bubbles of annoyance and mild distaste as I realized again and again that I would be happy if I never had to talk to his parents again.

The most hateful and horrible thoughts started forming: I would make a better mother because instead of focussing on making my child succeed where I obviously failed, I will actively devote my life to support and nurture them. The world and all of it's facets are theirs to explore while I'm nothing more than an old warning against my regrets and mistakes. I would make a better mother because I'm not like you and there is nothing in the world that would make me force my children into things or ignore their very obvious "rebellions" against what I wished they would do. I would be a better mother because I am me.

I'm so thankful that I've never had to grow up with a religion or harsh set of rules. I'm glad that I've never had to pretend and change for some community I had no interest in. I'm grateful for my childhood, my life, and my family. I'm happy with my life, my friends, and everything I've been able to have, do, and love.

-It's not a pain, more like a flutter
Scarlet Bloodmoon